Retelling
by hannahbbug3
Summary: In which Boyd and Mist read too deeply into things and Soren is falsely accused of being dead. My first story on FF, please R&R!


Disclaimer: Is it really needed? This is a fanfiction, I would think you'd know these people aren't mine...

* * *

Ike always tried to be of use. He wanted to help others, especially his friends. So it was only simple reasoning that led to the conclusion that Soren, his best friend, would receive the most help from Ike.

And Soren didn't mind Ike's help. Even though the Commander was ill-informed on the way to manage the company, even though his penmanship was atrocious, even though he could, at times, be less than skilled in doing what the mage bade him to do, Soren didn't mind.

But his appreciation did not protect the Commander from being berated every now and again.

"What was it… that you were doing?" the mage struggled to keep an even tone, but his eyes nearly burned with scorn. One of his pale hands was wrapped around the other, crimson seeping from between his fingers.

Ike looked horrified. "I was just… putting all the swords in the same place. I didn't mean to drop them, and I certainly didn't mean to cut—"

"You _broke_ half of our vulneraries! You knocked over a rack of lances! Of all the clumsy… do you realize how much time I'm going to have to spend fixing this?" the mage pointed an accusing finger at the Commander, his nails digging into the wound that had just been inflicted, and scattering little flecks of liquid to join the mess on the floor.

The Commander frowned, trying to retaliate without yelling at his friend. "I'm sorry, Soren, but you can't just… pop out from places that I don't expect you to be…"

Soren massaged his temples irritably, simultaneously dripping a few drops of life fluid onto his cheek. He drew his hand back and stared at it as if it had insulted him, noting for the first time the red dripping from the cut on his palm. He halted his tirade, but the glare did not leave his face.

"…really sorry," the Commander murmured, looking down sheepishly.

"…tch," the mage huffed, kneeling to begin sorting out the unusable items from the usable ones. Ike's voice stopped him.

"Soren, you should treat that cut."

"It's just a flesh wound. I'll be fine."

"That's your writing hand, isn't it? Our company wouldn't get anywhere if you couldn't keep us up to date on everything! Just let me—"

"No you don't," Soren frowned as Ike reached for a vulnerary. "We need to save those, now that you've wiped half of our stock out. This cut doesn't need _that_ much attention. If you're so worried about it, just go get a bandage from Rhys or Mist. I'll be here."

Ike obeyed the order without question. It was his fault that the mage was hurt, so if he could amend this wrong, he'd do it. He found his way quickly down the rows of the army's encampment to Rhys's tent.

"Commander Ike! Can I help you?" the gentle healer smiled in his benevolent way, sitting aside the light tome he had been thumbing through.

"Yeah, Rhys. Do you have a bandage? I need to—"

"What's happened?" concern instantly filled the healer's face. "Is there some sort of trouble? Anything I need to tend to?"

Ike smiled and laughed slightly. "No, don't get all worked up. I just dropped some stuff in the supply tent and Soren got a cut. He asked that I come get a bandage from you."

Rhys looked decidedly more at ease. "Oh, if that's all, of course. Just a moment."

The Commander waited patiently as Rhys dug through his box of healing supplies, finally resurfacing with a bandage. "Here you go, Commander."

"Thanks, Rhys," Ike beamed. "You're a help as always. See you around," the Commander exited the tent, but not before nearly knocking his sister over.

"Mist! I'm sorry. Were you going in to see Rhys?"

"That's right. He and I have training to do." The girl beamed up at her brother, who ruffled her hair in an affectionate way.

"I'll not keep you from it, then. See you!" he waved jovially and headed back through the sea of tents.

Mist entered the other healer's tent, and he smiled in greeting. She, however, bore a frown. "What was that all about? It's not like Ike to come and see you."

"Hm? Oh, he was stopping in to get a bandage. Apparently, Soren received a minor injury and asked that the Commander retrieve a wrapping for it," Rhys explained calmly.

"Oh? I see. Only…" the girl frowned, unease working onto her face. "Doesn't it seem a bit odd for Ike to run all the way across camp for a bandage? And even more strange, that _Soren_ would ask for treatment?" she looked troubled, and the expression was beginning to wear on Rhys.

"That is… slightly offputting," he said, "But Ike did not seem worried," he quickly amended.

"Isn't that just like him, though? He wouldn't want us to worry, so he just passes it off as a small wound…"

"Mist, I'm sure—"

"I'm just saying, is all," she said. "Just saying that it's strange…" the girl moved out of the tent, deep in thought and forgetting all about the training that she was supposed to do.

Mist didn't get very far before she found a welcome distraction. From across the training field, Boyd caught her eye. He ran his axe cleanly through the training dummy that he'd been battering, then leaned back to survey his work. He peered upwards when he felt himself being watched, and hailed the girl when he saw her. "Heya, Mist!"

She ran over to him at the invitation. "Hi, Boyd! Training hard?"

"Sure am! You can tell Titania for me later. What about you? Been working on… healing and stuff?"

"Well," the girl frowned. "I _was_ going to train with Rhys, but there was an incident…"

"What's happened?" he asked.

"Soren't gotten hurt," she said.

Now, Boyd didn't particularly care for Soren, but he cared for Mist. And if something was troubling Mist, he wanted to be there for her. "How bad?" he asked.

"He asked for treatment," she said, crossing her arms. "I'd say that's explanation enough."

"Aw, geez," Boyd said, running a hand through his hair. "That's bad. Is Ike taking it okay?"

"Ike's… Ike's trying not to worry us."

"What about the others, do they know?"

"I don't think—"

"Well, then what are we doing standing here? Maybe someone will know how to help! Come on!" He gripped her hand, and the two hurried off through the camp.

* * *

By the time lunch rolled around, Titania knew that there was something going on. The way that the members of their group had sectioned off into little clusters, speaking in whispers and casting troubled glances towards the Commander's tent… it had gotten to the point where she couldn't ignore it anymore.

She approached one of the clusters. "Boyd, Mist, Rolf. What's going on?" she asked. They looked up at her in shock.

"Haven't you heard?" Boyd finally piped up. "Soren's dead!"

* * *

Titania burst into the Commander's tent. "Ike, _what_ is going on? Are you alright?" she asked, a motherly verve in her tone.

"What's going on? I haven't heard anything. At least, not anything that would warrant your concern for me." He stood from his stool.

"Oh, Ike…" she frowned. "There's no need to put on for me. I've heard about Soren."

"What about Soren?" The Commander straightened suddenly. "Has something—"

"Ike, you haven't heard? I thought you were there… no matter. I suppose it's only right to let you know… Soren's—"

"What about me?"

The aforementioned mage walked into Ike's tent to join the Vice-Commander and the Commander. She stared at him for a moment, before stammering dumbly. "S-Soren…? You're… alive?"

"Of course I am. What would give you the idea that I wasn't?"

She laughed nervously. "Oh, Soren!" she grabbed him by the shoulders. "I'm sorry, it's just that… that Boyd! Oh…" she patted the mage's head and turned to Ike. "You should address the camp. Somehow or another, word got around that our tactician was dead."

Ike snickered. "What? How on earth did that get around?"

"Well, the story as I heard it was that Soren suffered a grievous injury in an accident in the supply tent. You went to seek Rhys's help, insisted that nothing was wrong so that the others wouldn't worry, but by the time you returned to aid Soren, he'd bled to death." The Vice-Commander laughed again. "What's going on, Commander?"

"Well, from what I gather, you're referring to this morning, when I knocked over everything in the supply tent and Soren got a cut on his hand."

"A cut on his hand?" she looked down and spied the bandage. "My… I'd best go tell the others. Dear me…" she shook her head and exited the tent.

Ike rested back down on his stool, still chuckling to himself. "Good grief. I get a bandage for a cut this morning, and by mid-afternoon they've managed to kill you off…" he laughed once, looking up at Soren. His laughter stopped. "Well…?"

The mage's dour expression seemed even darker than normal. "It's nice to see… how the others would act if I…"

Ike immediately sensed what was wrong. "Oh, no, Soren. I didn't mean to laugh…"

"Go on and laugh. I'm glad that you've gotten some entertainment out of this madness."

"Soren." Ike stood, gripping his friend by the shoulders. "How many different ways can I put this? Your life is very valuable. Not just to this army, or our company. But to me as well. You know that, don't you? And you should know that I'd be properly aggrieved at your death, Goddess forbid it. Understand?"

The mage gave a slight smile and a nod, reassured. Ike swept his arm around the mage, leading him outside. "Come on, then. I think you need to make a public appearance…"

The two were nearly knocked over as Boyd ran around the corner. "Commander! Soren!" he panted, clearly out of breath from running. "How goes it? Hey, have you heard the news? Shinon and Lethe are getting hitched!"

Tome, meet Soren's face.


End file.
